


Do you come here often? To moan I mean

by Renmiriffx



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Crushes, Cunning, Drinking, Fake Sex, I almost wrote smut again, M/M, Siblings, Watching Movies, annoying neighbor, bc fucking language that's why, broken tv, clueless characters, have fun or something, juvenile behaviour, references to some movies, what's wrong with me, whatta fuck?, yet another immature fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renmiriffx/pseuds/Renmiriffx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know what's a brilliant idea?<br/>To annoy your crushes annoying neighbor by pretending to have sex, with your crush, who's straight... and you're not.<br/>What can go wrong? And alcohol doesn't play any part in this brilliant plan.</p><p>so basically, I think you're straight and you think I'm straight, lemme come over and listen to your neighbor have sex, so let's pretend we're having sex to annoy her- AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do you come here often? To moan I mean

**Author's Note:**

> I had no fucking motivation to write this, but my brain was set on it, it didn't give me peace untill I wrote it. Ain't my finest hour.  
> So yeah, excuse the typos and grammar errors.  
> Leave me some love cuties ~<3~  
> I don't bite, not hard anyways ;)

Befriending a co-worker is another thing, but seriously mega-crushing for her roommate aka brother, can be a bit trickier. Considering the facts which are,

 **One** ; The guy in question probably (mostly likely, definitely) knows that you’re gay, but he hasn’t done anything about it, merely ignores it and hasn’t commented anything about it.

 **Two;** You’re pretty fucking certain that he’s straight, his sister would have said something if he wasn’t.

 **Three** ; You constantly check him out and one time you were pretty sure that he was checking you out, so therefore you maintain a certain amount of hope. So you’re fucking screwed, dummy in love.

 **Four;** You mostly visit his sister just to get to see HIM not her, not that you don’t like her company, but…

 **Five;** During those visits when the guy is there (if you’re lucky enough) you have a hard time hiding your boner sometimes, especially if the guy just happens to come out of the shower.

 **Six;** You’ve never said anything about this to the guy or the sister, yet you still hope.

 **Seven;** You’ve reached to the point that you’re gonna fucking burst or worse if you don’t get inside the guy, you want him so so bad.

Ian Gallagher, the unfortunate boy caught up in this mess, knows that his thoughts are straight from some stupid women’s magazines you’d find in the waiting rooms across the country. But none the less he’s done for… Was from the minute he laid eyes on Mickey Milkovich.

And that brings him to number **eight;** Sieze the fucking moment.

So he knocks on the door, hoping that Mickey will be home.

The door opens and a grumpy voice snarls before it’s even fully open.

“Fucking what?” Mickey says before his eyes land on the sight of redhair, his eyes immediately soften a little, “Gallagher? What you doing here, Mands ain’t here.”

Ian knows fully well that Mandy is working till eleven and the clock’s just turned past eight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” He lies. “I thought she was working the day shift, thought she’d be home by now.”

Ian hopes that Mickey doesn’t see through his lie and lets him in any way. But when Mickey’s silent for a moment Ian bites his lip nervously and says: “Maybe I can come in and wait for her?”

Mickey looks at Ian, tilts his head like his thinking about it and then opens the door wider.

“What the fuck ever,” He says and lets Ian in, who grins victory.

It’s a small victory, but victory none the less. Just a little alone time with Mickey is something rare and precious, like a toffee caramel when he was still a child. Oh, and would Ian wait for that toffee… So without any hesitation Ian steps in and seats himself on the sofa.

“I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” He asks Mickey, who went in the kitchen to fetch a beer, judging by the jingling noises.

“Nah man, I was just gonna watch a movie or something, might as well join me.”

But what Ian didn’t know about this situation was that Mickey’s feelings or more like desires weren’t far from his own. Because the legend goes that Mickey’s quite the power bottom and not in the ‘I like to experiment in the bedroom in a heterosexual way, but in the, I’m so fucking gay kinda way’ if you believe the guys he has fucked in the past. And his sister has had more than earful in the past of khis activities…

But his sister had said that Ian is as straight as they get. Even though Mickey didn’t quite believe it at first, because one look of Ian screamed gay from head to toes, since when has a straight guy smelled so good? Or looked so trimmed and toned? Okay, it’s fucking stereotypical, but come the fuck on, a guy smelling like gay heaven can’t be straight, but that’s what his sister had said. Even if Mickey had his doubts, he still trusted her sister, why’d she lie to him about something like this?

It does make things fun though, because something you can’t get, is two times more intriguing than just staking out a guy in a gay bar, not that Mickey’s necessarily playing the maybe—game, but it’s still fun. At least when he can control his desires and the uncalled boners. A little look here and there, a little teasing flirt, who can it hurt? Or one beer?

“So, want a beer?” He asks roaming through the fridge.

“Sure why not,” Ian replies from the couch

Mickey makes his way from the kitchen and plumps on the couch and hands the beer to Ian, and if his finger intentionally brush lightly against Ian’s, then so what?

It’s the lightest touch that drives Ian insane, it’s exactly why he shouldn’t be playing with this kind of fire, it’s way too easy to get burned. He can’t help reading into it, he shouldn’t, but he does, because he fucking wants to believe it’s real. Fox Mulder might be the only one who believes more or harder than Ian.

“So what were you gonna watch?” Ian asks, stealing a subtle glace of Mickey.

“I was gonna watch some action flick, but then I noticed that the tv’s broken or the volume is, it won’t go louder,” Mickey shakes his head, “Ain’t nobody gonna watch people kicking some serious ass with explosions going off in the background without a sound, right?” Mickey raises his eyebrows, looking for some approval from Ian.

“Yeah, it’s absolutely bullshit without a sound. Like come on? Have you seen Kingsman and the secret service? That fucking church scene, almost jizzed in my pants when I saw it,” Ian huffs out a laugh.

“Man, that was some fucking scene! Never thought Lynard Skynard would go so well with action filled scene like that,” Mickey says.

“I’ll drink to that,” Ian says and leans his beer towards Mickey for a toast.

“Fucking right,” Mickey clings their beer bottles together.

“So what are we watching then?” Ian asks.

“How about Horrible Bosses 2? I’ve seen than so many times that the sound don’t matter,” Mickey says, extending his legs on the coffee table.

“Alright.”

Mickey presses play and they settle watching the movie in silence. Occasionally commenting something about the movie. Both men on the opposite ends of the couch. Since the apartment is so quiet without the sound of the tv, other noises are tad much easier to hear. First it’s just a short echoing moan.

Both boys look at each other, thinking was it the other or not? It definitely was a moan that they both can agree on. There’s Chris Pine on the tv, so Ian isn’t even sure that it wasn’t him letting out the moan, because Chris Pine is one fine man. They both kinda shrug it off and get back on the movie.

But there it is again, but louder this time, it’s soft, almost female like high pitched noise and it’s followed by a low grunt. And this time Mickey recognizes the voice or should he say disgusting noise.

“Not again,” He sighs.

“What?” The totally clueless Ian asks.

“It’s the fucking neighbor again. I swear to god, she’s a fucking nymfo or something. She so loud and she can go at it all goddamn night if she feels like it.”

“Oh,” Ian lets out, trying to focus back on the movie, because a creeping thought of Mickey knowing that information personally upsets him, even if it shouldn’t.

“Fucking oh? Do you have any idea how fucking annoying it is? It’s like listening to bad porn,” Mickey says and nods towards the wall where behind it the noises are seemingly coming from. “And she’s just getting started…” Mickey sighs annoyed, clenching his fists.

The moans and grunts get louder by every second.

“Have you tried telling her that?” Ian innocently asks.

“Have we tried? Seriously? Just fucking watch me,” Mickey sneers and gets up.

Mickey starts banging the wall with his fists and yells on the top of his lungs;

“Shut the fuck up! We’re trying to watch a movie here, you fucking slut!”

The silence lasts about three seconds when a female voice yells equally loud:

“And we’re trying to fuck here! You shut up!”

Mickey shrugs and sits back on the couch.

“See? No fucking use. Once I ran into her and told it to her face, but still fucking nothing. I think she exists to annoy me,” Mickey drinks the rest of his beer with a one gulp. “Want another?” He asks Ian.

“Yeah sure, but don’t be so dramatic, she’s just having sex man.” Ian tries to brush it off, he doesn’t want Mickey getting any angrier or annoyed. It makes unnecessary dents in his plan of spending some alone time with Mickey.

Mickey grunts. “You don’t have to live here Gallagher and listen to that 3-7 times a week… If you’re lucky.”

There’s a distant string of words:

_“Oh yeah, harder, fuck me harder.”_

“Oh yeah, ah, oh, fuck yeah,” Mickey mimics in a mock. “You wouldn’t be moaning so loud if I’d stick a fucking baseball bat up your ass, bitch,” He mutters and flips the birdie towards the wall.

That gives Ian an idea, it’s probably going to ruin the little thing he has with Mickey, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take, seize the fucking moment and all.

“What if we pay her back?” Ian lets his words float in the air.

“What?” Mickey asks when he returns to the couch.

“You know? Let’s do the same thing to her.”

“Still not following you Gallagher, just spit it out.”

Ian shakes his head, coughs and starts rambling.

“Oh yeah, yes, right there… Oh my god.” He moans or says with over the top porn like voice.

He looks at Mickey with raised eyebrows and a scowl.

“That’s so fucking juvenile.” Mickey sneers. “But it’s worth a shot. Anything to annoy her,” He smiles evilly.

Soon they both are fake moaning uncontrollably like their lives depended on it. It was hard not to laugh in between, but they managed it, if you don’t count a few sneers.

Ian glanced at Mickey, telling him stop. They fell into silence and listened what was happening in next door. But the same fucking moaning still continued.

“Ready to step up a notch?” Ian asks.

“Can this fucking child’s play go any further?” Mickey laughs.

“Watch me,” Ian smirks and gets up.

“Whatever you have in mind, I think it requires some heavy alcohol. I’m gonna bring out the big guns,” Mickey says and disappears into his bedroom (Ian knows exactly where that is, not that he’s ever peeked inside or anything)

Mickey reappears with a bottle of vodka.

“So how about it?” Mickey says after he’s taken a large gulp and offers the bottle to Ian, who gratefully takes it.

Ian isn’t used to drinking raw alcohol, he’s more of a beer kinda guy, so the vodka makes him cringe.

“That good huh?” Mickey laughs at him.

“Hushhush,” Ian shushes Mickey.

They say that alcohol makes you a superhero, well that’s a line of bullshit, but it did give Ian courage, a bit too much for his own good. He plasters himself against the wall, back against it. Palms on the wall, resting next to his hips, and he starts banging himself on the wall, as in matching thrusts. He fills the illusion with ragged moaning.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Mickey says with a smirk and takes another gulp.

“Could help me out here, you know,” Ian teases. “Gimme the bottle.”

“Help you? I think you’re doing a fine job yourself as in making an ass out of yourself,” Mickey grins, handing the vodka bottle to Ian.

“Fuck you, I’m trying to help you here.”

Mickey tracks his bottom lip between his teeth and releases it with a pop, “Fine.”

Mickey knows he’s playing in the dangerous waters, because the way Ian tilts his head back, exposing his neck, that thick vein pumping blood. He’d give anything to sink his teeth into it, to suck on it, to lick across that fucking neck. Fuck. He takes yet another gulp of vodka.

“Oh yeah, right there,” Mickey says, feeling ashamed of himself. He’s not usually the talking one in bed, so faking it feels even more stupid.

“Come on Mickey,” Ian whispers. “With more feeling.”

“You directing porn now?” He sneers to Ian.

“Make it or brake it?” Ian shrugs and continues banging the wall.

“Fuck, “ Mickey hisses.

The way they moan in sync, makes something very awake in Mickey’s pants. Fucking hell. Why does the redhead sound so sexy? That’s gotta be illegal. The thought of having Ian pinning him against the wall like that, his fucking large hands tugging Mickey’s shirt off, nails grazing the skin, circling around the nipples… Mickey’s lets out a soft moan that most definitely isn’t fake.

That stirs Ian from his fake sex making. Was that what he thinks it was? He’s been avoiding eye contact with Mickey on purpose, because he knows that Mickey could see his eyes are more than swimming in lust. But now he looks Mickey into the eyes and holds the gaze.

There’s always a silence before the storm…

Mickey rolls his eyes and sighs. If his going to fuck things up, then so be it, but it isn’t getting any hotter than this.

“Fuck it,” He hisses.

He steps closer to Ian, taking his hands and pinning them above his head, staring straight into Ian’s eyes.

“Mickey?” Ian asks voice slightly trembling.

“Shut up,” Mickey orders.

 Ian’s eyes widen with the sudden command, but he doesn’t have any time to react to it, because Mickey laches his lips on Ian’s. Fucking hell, it’s real.

For wanting something so bad for months Ian doesn’t waste any time kissing Mickey. He licks and bites across the older man’s lips, like he’s trying to get drunk on the taste. He wiggles himself free from Mickey’s grip and flips them around, so Mickey’s against the wall.

The loose of lip contact doesn’t last, Ian’s lips find Mickey’s right away. Ian’s hand drops to Mickey’s thigh, he traces it up and down, finally forcing Mickey to bend his knee, lifting it up and wrapping it behind Ian’s knee.

Hands tugging hair, fingers tracing the outlines of boxers, feet kicking off shoes and socks. They rolled around the walls, bouncing from wall to wall in the tiny hallway, unzipping zippers and unbuckling belts when they made their way to Mickey’s bedroom. They slammed the door shut behind them. And soon their noises, _real_ moan and grunts outweighed the neighbor’s noises.

 

* * *

 

Last night Ian had left soon after what he calls the best sex he’s had in ages. They both agreed that Mandy, the unfortunate sister in this mess, shouldn’t see or know what they’d done, so Ian left before she got home. It had left him clueless though. Was Mickey in fact gay, or had he just been horny or something? It was something Ian needed to figure out, so he stole something (which wasn’t nearly as easy as he’d thought) on his way to the Milkovich sibling’s home.

He stops under Mickey’s window and starts throwing little rocks on the window. After a few stones Mickey opens the window.

“What the fuck Gallagher?” Mickey says voice filled with sleep.

“I got something for you,” Ian says and points the object next to him.

“Where’s your boombox?” Mickey smirks.

“My what now?”

“Boombox, in your eyes by Peter Gabriel? John Cusak, Say Anything 1989?

“You’re a fucking movie freak,” Ian laughs. “Seriously come help me with this.”

“Ain’t arguing with that, wait, lemme put something on.” Mickey disappears from the window.

“Clothing optional!” Ian shouts after him.

Mickey comes down, coyly smiling at Ian, who’s a little disappointed to see Mickey wearing a tank top.

“You got us a new tv?” Mickey asks.

“Well, it ain’t new, as you can see. But it works.” Ian smiles. “And I stole it.”

“Now that’s more like it Gallagher,” Mickey laughs.

And they haul the tv inside the apartment.

As they get the tv set in, Ian’s just about to ask Mickey about last night, when Mandy’s room door busts open. Her eyes land on Ian.

“Morning,“ She yawns. “What you doing here?” She smiles at Ian.

“The ginger knight here got us a working tv,” Mickey says.

“Oh, thank Ian. You shouldn’t have.” Mandy says.

Her eyes flicker from Ian to her brother and on the hickey’s on their necks. She snorts and rolls her eyes.

“You guys want coffee?” She asks.

“Yeah.” Both Ian and Mickey say.

They all sit around the kitchen table, and Mandy’s the first one to break the awkward silence.

“So you boys finally figured it out,” She grins.

“Figure out what?” Mickey asks.

“That you’re both gay,” She says like it’s nothing.

Both of the boys cough.

“Say what?” Mickey shots.

“As in bumboys, you both like cock and so on.”

“Yeah I fucking know what a gay is fuckface,” Mickey hisses. “You fucking told me he wasn’t gay,” He lowers his voice. “You know that he’s like the definition of my type.”

Mickey glances at the blushing Ian, who’s unable to say anything.

“A girls gotta have her fun somehow. Besides I had a bet going on with my friends, how long it takes for you two to figure it out. And as it seems that you just made me 200 bucks.” Mandy smiles widely.

“You fucking bitch,” Mickey grins his teeth. “I could have been fucking THAT for months without your bullshit.” He all but points at Ian. Who is blushing now even more.

“Get a better gaydar my dear brother,” Mandy teases. “And besides the next door nymfo’s been quiet all night.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually dislike the film Say Anything (1989), but it's a classic, so what can ya do?  
> UM, where's my fun game gone? I've lost it, if found pls return to yours truly. I can't live without my immature humor.  
> And fuck, I'm out, peace <3


End file.
